When a lover's in the wind,
Though miss is coy, we always find
At last she turns out wondrous kind,
Nor thinks a man so shocking.
A woman's frowns are but a jest;
She's angry only to be pressed,
And then she grants her friends' request
To let them throw the stocking.

While Pudding-sleeves unites their hands,
And fetters both in marriage-bands,
John grins and Molly foolish stands
To see the neighbours flock in;
But after supper John is led
With love and liquor in his head,
Tucked with his Molly into bed,
Then hey to throw the stocking!

The night soon passed, the morning come,
The couple looking queer and rum;
He says but little, she is dumb,
The chamber door unlocking;
But Molly, who was once so coy,
No longer now conceals her joy;
She vows all day for her dear boy
She'd trudge without a stocking!